Frustration
by Ancalime8301
Summary: Sam's POV during one of Frodo's anniversary illnesses. *debut fic*


Title: Frustration  
  
Author: Ancalime  
  
Rating: G (I guess . . ?)  
  
Characters: Sam, Rosie (Frodo, Merry)  
  
Summary: Sam POV during one of Frodo's anniversary illnesses  
  
A/N: Inspired partially on my own feelings while taking care of my grandma while she underwent radiation treatment for cancer. Thanks to the FrodoHealers group for their positive feedback, and, of course, inspiration. :)  
  
Disclaimer: if you think any of these characters are mine, I can think of a few 'healers' to recommend ;)  
  
  
  
Sam sat next to the ailing hobbit's bed, white-knuckled fists clenched in frustration. There was nothing he could really do except watch and wait . . . a calming touch when the nightmares worsened . . . a cool cloth to banish the sweat from the fevered face . . . but no amount of soothing would make this illness vanish. He felt helpless, and what's worse, he knew he was helpless. He couldn't change what had happened, couldn't change the past.  
  
Sam rested his forehead on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes as tears pricked the back of his eyelids, and allowing his mind to drift back to a time when all seemed right with the world and happiness was taken for granted . . .  
  
*Frodo chased Sam and Merry through the forest. Eager to actually win this game of tag, Merry darted up the nearest convenient tree. He knew he could never outrun Frodo, his cousin's longer legs gave him more speed than the shorter Merry was capable of, so to win Merry had to resort to bending the rules a bit. Sam, a couple strides behind Merry, was momentarily confused by Merry's move, but shrugged and carefully picked his way up the tree behind Merry.  
  
Merry had scrambled rather high and Sam was about halfway up when Frodo skidded to a stop beneath the tree. "Aw, c'mon Merry!" he shouted between gasps of air. "You know those higher branches can't hold me!"  
  
"But Frodo, that is exactly the point!" Merry grinned down at Frodo from his lofty perch amongst the sun-speckled leaves near the top of the tree. Frodo sighed in exasperation, then laughed and joined his younger friends in the welcoming branches of the large oak.*  
  
Sam recalled this memory fondly, momentarily back in the tree with the warm summer breeze ruffling his curls. Though he was rather high off the ground, he felt safe with Frodo balanced on a neighboring branch and Merry above Frodo's head. His mind continued reliving that day . . .  
  
*The three lads spent several hours cradled in the tree's limbs, talking for a while before falling into a companionable silence. "Do you think we'll ever see elves?" Sam asked no one in particular. Bilbo had told them a particularly riveting tale about elves that morning, and Sam was obviously still mulling over it.  
  
Frodo chuckled. "Maybe we will, Sam. Perhaps we'll even go on our own adventure someday."  
  
"Can I come too?" Merry whined from his perch above Frodo.  
  
"Of course you can," Frodo said reasonably. "We may even let Pippin come along if he's old enough."  
  
"Really?!?" Merry squealed, leaning forward in excitement and almost falling out of the tree.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Where will we go?" Sam asked practically.  
  
Frodo leaned back against the rough bark of the trunk and stared dreamily through the leaves overhead to the deep blue summer sky. "Well," he said slowly, "we'll definitely go to Rivendell to see the elves" -a glance in Sam's direction- "them maybe into the mountains to meet the dwarves . . ." he trailed off. The three sat, each wrapped in speculation, mentally imagining what far-off and exotic places they would visit when they went on their own great adventure . . . *  
  
Sam brought himself back to the present, shaking off the memory with a rueful shake of his head. They had gone off on their own adventure all right, but not an adventure they'd have imagined in their wildest dreams . . or worst nightmares. He was thankfully disrupted from following this train of thought further by a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" asked a familiar female voice.  
  
Sam clasped the hand with his own as he answered, "Yes, Rosie dear. I was just . . remembering."  
  
Rosie knelt next to his chair. "I can sit with 'im while you get a bite to eat, if you want," she assured him, her eyes roving his face to ascertain for herself is he was really all right. She needn't have bothered, she already knew he wasn't all right, and wouldn't be until Mr. Frodo was himself again, which Rosie wasn't sure would ever happen. She didn't know Frodo well before he left but even so she could tell his journey had changed him. Surely Sam must realize that! Rosie had a bad feeling that Mr. Frodo had been changed forever and no amount of Sam's attention could affect that. But if her Sam believed Mr. Frodo could go back to the way he was before, she would believe it too. For Sam.  
  
"Thanks, but I'll be fine," Sam reassured her, kissing her briefly before she stood and retreated from the room. He had observed her observing him and knew what was likely going through her mind. Sam was beginning to wonder if she was right about Frodo. Perhaps nothing remained of who he was before the quest. But even as Sam entertained this idea, he shook his head. No. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Sam had seen the evidence himself.  
  
*'Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee,' said a voice by his side. And there was Frodo, pale and worn, and yet himself again; and in his eyes there was peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the dear master of the sweet days in the Shire.*  
  
It was over. The Ring was destroyed. So why was its influence still plaguing his master? He had hoped returning to the Shire and falling back into familiar routines would help Frodo adjust to life after the Ring. It was a sore blow to come back and find that the Shire had changed too. If only . . . if only they hadn't left- and let the Dark Lord take his Ring and do unspeakable things with it? It was no use dwelling on the 'if only's,' what's done is done and we must deal with the results, Sam tried to reason with himself.  
  
Which left him with nothing to do except watch and wait. 


End file.
